


Sanders Sides Spooky Times

by BackattheBein



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dad!Roman, Happy halloween kiddos, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, a smothering of fluff, corn maze, dad!patton, hay ride, kid!virgil, spook themes but not too much actual spook, tags will be updated as stories update, we must all prepare for the skeleton war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BackattheBein/pseuds/BackattheBein
Summary: A collection of fall and Halloween-inspired drabbles and tiny fics surrounding dem bois. Each chapter will list pairings and a brief summary. Get ready for buckets and buckets of fluff





	1. Jumping in leaves

The child’s screams cut through the brisk fall wind.

“Cwunchy!”

“Yes, Virgil,” Roman said through laughter, “when the leaves fall in the fall, they get crunchy and make the most delightful sounds when you step on them!”

Virgil continued running down the street of their quaint cul-de-sac neighborhood, jumping into piles of leaves on the side of the road and squealing with glee at each resounding crunch. Roman made sure to keep a close watch on him as they meandered towards the park at the end of the lane.

Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see his adorable husband giggling. His ever-present smile pulled at years worth of laugh lines, each of which Roman loved just as much as the man himself.

“Leaves are falling in the fall,” Patton started to sing, trying to make his voice as low as possible and letting the baritone ring.

Roman couldn’t help but throw his head back in full-on laughter. It wasn’t really that funny or original a song, but being extra was his thing! Roman had forced everyone into matching thick wool sweaters that morning, even though it wasn’t nearly chilly enough out. Which of course had been after several embarrassing attempts to make pumpkin flavored pancakes on his own until Patton had come downstairs and helped him save just enough for breakfast.

Roman reached out to wrap his gloved fingers around Patton’s cat-themed mittens. “Are you enjoying our walk, love?”

Patton giggled, lifting his free hand and flexing his fingers inside the mitten. “It’s paw-sitively wonderful!”

Just as Roman was about to burst into another fit of laughter, they heard a fearful shriek.

Their heads snapped forward, eyes searching frantically for the source of the noise.

 _Of course, you dunce_ , Roman berated himself, _you got distracted! Where the heck is Virge?!_

“Virgie!!” Patton yelled, rushing towards a pile of leaves on the other side of the road where Roman could now see said child, sitting with tears pouring down his face.

Sobbing and hiccupping, Virgil made grabby hands at Patton until the man finally reached him and scooped him up. Pat balanced him on his hip, trying to hold him with one arm so that he could inspect his body with the other. This, however, was impossible, as Virgil squirmed and struggled, almost falling out of his grip at one point.

By the time Roman made it over to the pair, Patton had re-adjusted his grip and now had the poor baby wrapped firmly in embrace, tiny little hands digging into the soft wool of his sweater.

“What is wrong, my princeling?” Roman asked, voice soft as he pulled off a glove. He rested his warm palm on Virgil’s face, brushing off still-flowing tears with the pad of his thumb.

Virgil was still breathing in great whooping gasps, and so Patton gently taped out a steady rhythm with his pointer finger against Virgil’s little chest. After a few minutes, his breathing returned to normal and his tears slowed then stopped.

Eventually, he managed to untangle his hands from their death grip and show them to his fathers, scrunching his eyes shut as if he couldn’t even look at the damage. Thankfully, it was minimal, and Roman huffed out a huge sigh of relief. Virgil must have jumped in a pile of leaves with sticks in it and scraped the hell out of his palms. Poor kiddo!

“Oh, darling, don’t worry, that’s not – ”

“Nothing a kiss can’t fix!” Patton interrupted, slowly leaning his head forward and booping Virgil’s nose with his.

When Patton pulled back, he shot a quick glance at Roman that said “get in on this! Help!” Roman gently took one of Virgil’s hands, careful not to touch the scraped parts, and brought it to his mouth to kiss. Then, he took the other hand and lightly pressed it against Patton’s mouth.

Patton made sure to make an exaggerated smacking sound so that Virgil would know his hands were finally fixed. “There you go, kiddo! Do you feel better?”

Virgil giggled as he drew his hands back into himself. Roman noticed the five-year-old had started to shiver and decided they should probably head inside for lunch.

“Patton, my dear,” Roman said, running his felt fingers through sandy hair, “my sunshine, agua de mi fuente, my one and only, I think it’s time we go inside. How does hot chocolate and Steven Universe sound?”

Patton laughed and shook his head, shoving off Roman’s hand and leaving a staticy mess behind.

“I don’t know, I think that would be autumn-ness! What do you think, Virge?”

Virgil’s eyes had gone wide as saucers, the appeal indescribable, but he seemed hesitant to go back inside.

Patton brushed his mitten paw against the child’s cold and reddened cheek. “Still wanna play? The leaves will still be here this afternoon, maybe we can come back out later!”

Virgil humfed, only mildly satisfied. “Wanna cwunch!”

Roman was more than ready to just lead Virgil back to their house a little down the lane when suddenly Patton’s eyes lit up with an idea. He slowly placed Virgil on the ground and took his right hand, motioning for Roman to take his left. That was when Roman caught on, his face lighting up with glee as a grin split his face.

Screams broke through the air again but quickly turned to squeals of pure joy. Roman and Patton swung Virgil through wind and as many piles of leaves as they could see, making sure to support his weight and not pull his shoulders while avoiding any sticks or rocks hidden in the piles.

They spent the afternoon wrapped up in their cozy sweaters, drinking hot chocolate and watching as many fall cartoons and movies as they could find. And if Virgil fell asleep nested between Patton and Roman, snuggling without a care in the world and making them all miss lunch, then so be it.


	2. Fall(ing) in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Patton go to a farm for festive fall activities. Logan doesn't know it's a date. Fluffiness ensues.

Logan knew that in any other circumstances, he’d be about ready to tear his hair out.

But then again, these were rather unique circumstances. While getting utterly lost in a corn maze with the sun rapidly setting in the distance and the temperature plummeting at an alarming rate, coupled with the fact he’d forgotten to wear any sort of sweater or cardigan, would absolutely be a recipe for disaster and stress-induced hair removal.

But, there was one key difference: Patton Sanders.

Patton in and of himself sort of was a problem for Logan, in that it was stupidly easy for his train of thought to jump from his complex studies or simple menial daily tasks to the way Patton’s hair shined in the soft morning light, or how his magnificent blue eyes sparkled even in a dim room, or how those lips seemed –

“Hey, Logan, I think I see the exit!” Patton exclaimed, grabbing Logan’s hand and rushing forward with glee and only a healthy amount of fear of being stuck in a corn maze overnight.

Relief washed over Logan, and he decided to focus wholeheartedly on that and their success at surviving the maze and not on the fact that a steady heat was creeping down his ears and across his cheeks. He was thankful Patton was looking forwards towards the gift shop and not at him.

As the two returned to the main land of the large farm, Logan began reminding himself yet again that he and Patton were only there as friends, close friends, and nothing else.

_*Flashback*_   
_They had been sitting in their high school history class together, both seemingly bored out of their minds, when Patton had passed him a note. ‘Who passes notes anymore?’ Logan had thought. ‘Isn’t that what texting is for? Virgil has only just started teaching me how to text like our peers and not like ‘gross old people’ according to him.’_

_Wary of not catching the teacher’s eye, Logan had opened the note under his desk._

_“Come to Smith Farms’ Festival with me this weekend? Circle yes or no and pass back”_

_Logan had felt blush immediately overtake his cheeks, only for his mind to try desperately to smother any romantically-inclined thoughts that receiving a note from Patton Sanders had just evoked. ‘It is probably just because he knows I’ve never been,’ Logan had rationalized. It had come up in one of their recent, albeit stunted conversations (stunted because Logan’s eloquent tongue always seemed to flounder about in the presence of one sandy-haired blue-eyed angel)._

Logan had to shake his head again, vigorously this time, to dispel all his wild thoughts and get his mind back on track. He and Patton had explored every part of the farm land except for the hay ride, which provided a tour of the property.

“Do you wanna grab some hot cider before we take the hay ride, Lo?” Patton asked, finally turning back to look at the other. His freckled cheeks were flushed bright red, probably from the cold and from their somewhat frantic running through the corn maze. Logan thought it was adorable, especially because his nose had turned slightly red too and it just made the entire ensemble so much cuter.

 _You can’t afford to think that way_ , he scolded himself. _Look at him objectively._

Patton was wearing thick black wool leggings, black knee-high wool socks underneath worn brown leather boots, and what appeared to be a hand-knitted maroon sweater with a crude rendering of a pumpkin on it that Logan felt made it seem rather charming than ugly. His sandy curls peeked out of a blue beanie and still managed to bounce around his soft face whenever he moved.

Logan cleared his throat which had suddenly felt closed and tight. “Yes, that sounds adequate.”

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the back of a wagon as it meandered around the farm.  
The hay was not very comfortable to sit on, even with the coarse blanket that had been thrown over it to create something like a chair or bench. Logan was still in his school clothes, and while he liked his simple look of dress pants, polo, and tie, none of said garments were very thick or good at fending off the elements.

Patton’s body heat was like a lighthouse near a foaming sea, drawing Logan in, even though he kept vehemently reminding himself that this was not a date. He felt almost hyper-aware of the fact that, crammed together into this tiny wagon with a handful of other people, he and Patton were sitting mere inches from each other. It was magical compared to the usual five feet of separation when there were school desks and tables in between them, but it was also a special kind of torture.

Logan had been pining after Patton ever since ninth grade art class, the first class they’d ever had together. Logan had hated that he had to take it as a general education course, but Patton’s sunny disposition and lovable nature had overnight made it Logan’s favorite class.

A gust of wind made Logan shiver, and he brought his cup of warm apple cider closer to his body in the hopes that the hot cinnamon juice would warm him sufficiently.

He didn’t even notice as Patton suavely moved closer and wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulders.

“Well, Lolo, what did you think of the farm?” Patton asked, oblivious to the complete shutdown and recalibration Logan’s brain was going through.

Logan wanted nothing more than to lay his head down against Patton’s shoulder, maybe press his cold nose against the column of his throat, graze the wooly sweater, get a nip on his collarbone …

He was too caught up in emotions he didn’t know how to, no, didn’t want to process, and the confusion on his face was upsetting Patton. However, as he tried to pull his arm back Logan suddenly instinctively reached out, firmly gripping Patton’s hand where it rested against his shoulder.

“Was this a date?” Logan immediately cringed at the words he’d carelessly blurted out. He’d meant to whisper it, or really just to think it to himself. Heck, he’d been thinking it to himself since he’d gotten the damned note in the first place. He only wished there was a way to take the words back, shove the used-up air back down into his lungs and diaphragm, never to be seen again.

To his utter shock, Patton giggled.

Logan finally, hesitantly, made eye contact, and he was stunned into silence by both the unexpected reaction and the pang of heat that curled around his chest at the way laughing made Patton appear absolutely radiant.

As Logan continued to sit, shocked and confused and daring to hope, Patton’s laughter died off. _Didn’t he realize?_ Patton worried. _Did I not make it clear? Does he not like me?_

“Oh, honey,” he started, not sure what reaction he’d getting but hoping for a miracle. “I mean, I wanted it to be a date, but if you don’t feel that way the– ”

“I like you!” At that, Logan actually smacked his hand over his stupid, idiot mouth. Stupid brain, malfunctioned this horrifically in front of someone I – oh god, did I really actually genuinely say that out loud?!

It was Patton’s turn to be stunned into silence, but only for a mere second before a blindingly bright grin split his face.

“Aw, Lolo,” Patton squealed, throwing himself forward to awkwardly hug Logan, “I like you too!” The last bit came out muffled, as his face was now pressed against Logan’s chest, but Logan heard it all the same.

They spent the rest of the ride curled up against each other, Logan’s shivering finally dying down as they shared body heat and heated looks and lovely warm apple cider.

When Patton dropped him off at his house at the end of the night, walked him to his door, and leaned forward to steal a kiss, it tasted like warm cinnamon. It was everything Logan imagined.


	3. Pumpkin Spiced Snuggletime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is working himself to the bone as a senior in college. Patton entices him out of his room with Starbucks. Cuddles ensue. Platonic moxiety

_Read these two books by Wednesday. It’s Saturday afternoon. Read and annotate this packet for Monday. Draft the midterm paper by Tuesday. Practice for the band concert. Practice solo. Start working on your thesis you fucking dumbass or else you won’t grad–_

Virgil shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the storm of frantic thoughts drowning out his coherent mind.

To say that he was anxious as a student in his second-to-last semester of college, working his butt off with a full course load and writing a thesis on top of that, not to mention he already had anxiety naturally, would be the understatement of the century.

Rubbing his hands into his sore eyeballs, Virgil took a deep breath – or probably just a normal breath, he was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing there for a while as he’d been consumed with his worries.

It wasn’t like they’d really gone away, either, but if he wasn’t currently looking at the ever-expanding list of shit he had to do, then he could at least pretend he didn’t have any work at all.

He reached for the can of Mountain Dew on the floor, his fourth so far that day, as he decidedly avoided pouring over the list. He had to stifle a groan; for all the times he berated Logan, his younger brother, about making lists instead of doing work and hyper-fixating on them until the point of hysteria, Virgil was just as bad, if not worse. Seeing the tasks mounted in front of him did not calm him, as he had desperately hoped it would have. It made him stop in his tracks, like a deer staring down a car as it raced down the highway, too afraid of the collective might to chip away at any one thing.

As he leaned to put his drink back on the floor, one of his enormous stacks of papers started vibrating. He thrust a hand out to catch the papers before they toppled over, nabbing his phone before shifting the essays and handouts back into place.

_From Pat-pat: hey kiddo!! how’s it hangin!!_

Virgil huffed, sending the bangs in front of his face flying for a few glorious moments. _Tell the truth and he might freak_ , he thought, _but lie … he hates lying._

Sighing heavily, he shot a quick reply.

_From Virge: exhausted, anxious,,, a mess™_

He tossed his phone back onto his desk and shoved his hands back into his eyeballs, wishing that the pressure creating galaxies behind his eyelids would make them burn less so he could actually be productive.

Two short buzzes alerted him when Patton’s reply came a few minutes later.

_From Pat-pat: ugh, same! let’s take a break together!!_   
_From Pat-pat: I’ll buy your fav PSL_

Virgil’s mind went into a right panic for all of thirty seconds before he yawned. His body had been screaming at him nearly all day, about the thirty six hour mark of being awake, and he’d stubbornly pushed down and ignored those physical needs. The two Red Bulls he’d had before noon were the testament to that.

He knew he needed to stop. He’d been staring at a blank document on his laptop for God knows how long. As much as he hated not working, he hated how gross and inhuman he felt.

And honestly, he hadn’t seen Patton in almost a week, and that was a crime.

*

Thirty minutes later (after he took some time to make his makeup look presentable and not three days old, to style his hair somewhat and throw on a clean black hoodie) found Virgil melting in the warm embrace of Patton Sanders.

Bless, was all he could be bothered to think, the shitstorm of stress and anxiety blissfully quiet.

“Aw, kiddo!” Patton said, gazing down at Virgil. “You’ve been working yourself too hard!” he scolded as he cupped Virgil’s overly pale face in both hands and gently rubbed the pads of his thumbs over Virgil’s cheeks.

Virgil had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. This was pretty typical discourse for them, and not even the allure of a festive hot drink would change anything.

Speaking of …

“Yeah, Dad, I know,” the affectionate nickname rolling off his tongue with minimal sarcasm, “but it’s midterms! And I have a thesis to write! Besides, I’m taking a break now, aren’t I?”

At that point Patton seemed to remember why they’d come to the school’s coffee shop, and he motioned for them to get in line. While they stood waiting, Patton wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulders.

“I get it, Virge, I’m busy too. I also have a thesis! But this is not healthy, staying up for two days at a time and working yourself to death!”

Their conversation tapered off as Patton ordered their drinks – one chai latte and one pumpkin spice latte – and eventually found their favorite nook of the library to curl up into.

Virgil waited until they were comfortably tangled together in the seat cushions before softly whispering “Three.”

Patton looked up at him from where his head rested on Virgil’s shoulder, mouth hanging open and brows high for almost a minute before his eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping even further.

“Wh-wh-wha … ha, I, wha, b-but,” he huffed and sputtered. “Kiddo! We’ve talked about this!”

Virgil sighed. “Look, Pat, I know. But, honestly, it’s …” he scrunched his eyes closed, debating whether or not he should continue before deciding, finishing “You’ve helped me get so much better. I used to be way, way, worse. Like stupidly worse. And it still sucks, and I hate it, I hate myself sometimes, but I am better now, so let’s just drink our stupid drinks, okay?”

Patton looked like he wanted to seriously protest, but he remembered what Virgil had been like when they’d first met just over two years ago. The number of times Patton had had to accompany Virgil back to his room because he was on the verge of passing out from not eating or sleeping was heart-stopping; despite the fact that it still happened occasionally, however, it had gone down significantly since their days as wide-eyed young freshmen.

Putting his cup on the floor by their chair, Patton leaned over and wrapped Virgil up into his arms. He was at a real loss as to what to say. Virgil was his best friend, and he cared deeply about his well-being, and while the emo had gotten a lot better at self-care, no one was perfect (not even himself), and no amount of love and pumpkin spice would get rid of his anxiety. It was as much a part of his kiddo as the purple bangs, the sarcasm, the scene eyeshadow that hadn’t moved on from 2009.

They stayed curled up in their corner nook, warm and cuddly, drinking their festive drinks until Patton felt something dull and heavy thud against his chest.  
Virgil jolted awake, having been seconds from completely passing out on top of Patton.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Patton mumbled, feeling his own exhaustion start to creep in.

Virgil grunted, throwing back the rest of his latte in one gulp. It had long since gone cold.

“Maybe we should go take a nap ‘r—” Patton’s words cut off as he let out a big yawn.

“Yeah,” Virgil sighed, “maybe we should.”

Neither of them moved, still wrapped up together as they started into each other’s eyes with a look that could only be described as “it’s midterms,” a sort of weary mania.

Eventually, Patton started to untangle himself, and they gathered their things and started walking towards their dorms.

With little protest, Patton led Virgil up to his room. Knowing the emo would be stubborn about taking the bed but being too tired to fight him, Patton grabbed all of his dozen blankets and several pillows and made a little nest on the floor for them.

Virgil hadn’t slept so well in weeks, warm from the coffee and his best friend sleeping soundly beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Have a prompt you'd like to see me write? Leave a comment! Enjoyed this work? Leave a comment and/or kudos! Find me on tumblr @backatthebein


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